


Elope with Me

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Eloping, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Yuuri Toshiyevich and Victor Alekseyevich meet at a ball where they dance the night away and fall in love. Terrified that their parents will get in the way of their love, they decide to elope together to a place where they can be happy.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 16
Kudos: 84





	Elope with Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ladyofthefl0wers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyofthefl0wers/gifts).



> This fic is my Christmas present for Ladyofthefl0wers! Thank you so much for your support this year!

That morning Victor Alekseyevich awoke earlier than he did on most days. The sun had not risen yet. Frost covered the windows with beautiful pictures. He slipped out of his bed and summoned his valet with a whisper.

The servant helped him get dressed without remarking on the earliness of the hour or that Victor Alekseyevich was putting on his best clothes. The valet was a trusted servant and he knew what Victor intended to do.

The servant set to work on Victor’s hair next, arranging it in delicate curls on his head.

Outside the sky began to grow lighter.

“Is the carriage ready?” Victor asked in a whisper, finding the courage to break the silence at last.

“Yes, Victor Alekseyevich,” the servant replied.

Victor felt his heart beat faster. He was about to disobey his parents and dishonour the family name. Would his parents ever forgive him for what he was about to do? What if they disowned him for this?

Victor observed his reflection in the glass. No, his parents could be as angry as it suited them, he would not change his mind. His preparations complete, he rose from his chair and retrieved the letter that had arrived in secret the day before. He opened it, read it over for the hundredth time, kissed the signature at the bottom and returned it to its envelope.

He walked over to the table and made certain that the letter he had written the day before still lay there.

He cast one last look over his room. He had spent so many days of his life here. As a child, he’d lain on this bed and listened to his nurse tell him stories. How many tears had he shed into that pillow? Now it was all over. The time had come for him to make a new life for himself.

He slipped down the staircase, without making a single noise. At last, he was in the inner courtyard where the carriage was waiting for him.

It was cold. The snow crunched under his feet, and, for a reason he could not name, the sound filled him with happiness. He had heard it said that this was the coldest winter anyone could remember, but to Victor it was warmer than any summer.

He donned his white gloves and turned with a smile to his valet. “You can stay, or come with me, Tikhon. I will not hold your choice against you.”

“With the greatest respect, Victor Alekseyevich, I fear that your honourable parents will be very angry with me for not stopping you from leaving. I would much rather travel with you.”

Victor gave a slight nod of his head in reply and leapt into the carriage.

Tikhon followed him in and the carriage set off.

Victor peered out of the window at the snow-covered hills. The world beckoned him with widespread arms, telling him that anything was possible.

The sky changed its colour and the sun began to rise. Not a single cloud could be seen in the sky and Victor took it as a sign of the future that awaited him – free of all troubles and worries.

He knew the ride would be a short one, but to him it felt as long as a lifetime.

 _Soon,_ he told his terrified and worried heart. _Soon_.

He closed his eyes and thought about the man who he was trusting with his future. It did not even occur to him that a year earlier he did not know this man. What mattered was the here and now.

That is not to say that he had forgotten how they had met. On the contrary, every detail of their first meeting was preserved perfectly in his memory and he guarded it like a precious heirloom.

They had been introduced to each other at a ball.

_Mila Pavlovna sent out invitations to a ball in her house. Each invitation came on a crisp white card bordered in gold with the person’s name on it. It was rumoured that not only was society’s finest invited, but His Imperial Majesty as well._

_It must be admitted that, even though he had never seen the Emperor before, the thought of falling in love with someone at a ball pleased him far more than the thought of meeting His Imperial Majesty._

_He could barely sleep the night before the ball and spent the whole day getting ready. His clothes were pronounced inadequate, he was dissatisfied with his hair, and the fear stole over him that he could not remember how to dance._

_Evening fell._

_Victor’s father, Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv Nikiforov, interrupted his son in the middle of a dance with a gentle but firm reminder that it was time for them to leave._

_“But, father,” Victor protested, “I am not ready!”_

_“I can see that you are dressed for the ball. You have had Tikhon curl your hair and you have just demonstrated how well you can dance. You are more prepared than you ever were.”_

_Victor attempted to protest that his father was mistaken, that there was still much for him to do, but his father refused to listen to any of his arguments._

_Your mother and I are leaving now. You can remain at home, if you so wish, but I must warn you that your mother and I will need to make excuses for your absence and would appreciate it greatly, if you could provide us with a satisfying reason.”_

_There was no argument to be made now. Victor gave in to his father’s wishes. He made a few small adjustments to his appearance and joined his parents in their carriage._

_He spent the whole journey to the ball peering out of the window, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the other guests before they would be formally introduced to each other._

_Mila Pavlovna’s palace dazzled him with its many mirrors and thousands of candles._

_The halls were filled with guests. Many of them were in uniform. There was talk of war, of Europe and of Napoleon, but at this very moment Victor cared very little for all of that. He searched among them for someone to dance with, but the guests seemed to consist solely of elderly men._

_Out in the grand hall, the music began to play and dancers stepped carefully out onto the dancefloor._

_Victor stood against a wall and waited for someone to invite him. Was it possible that no one ever would? Could they not see how much his clothes suited him and how much time he had spent with Tikhon, perfecting his hair? Would he spend his first ball ever standing off to one side all by himself?_

_He willed his tears back. He would not cry. He will smile and nod politely and only when he returned home would he surrender to his grief._

_That was when he noticed Yuuri Katsuki among the crowd of guests. At the time, he was not acquainted with the young man, or even with his name, but he knew at once that this was the man he was destined to fall in love with._

_Like him, Yuuri was dressed as dictated by the latest fashions. Months later Victor would close his eyes and picture Yuuri exactly as he had looked then: in his elegant blue jacket with gold buttons, with a pair of white gloves on his hands. There was a serious expression on his face and his hair was very carefully combed back. It was all too easy to imagine Yuuri astride a white horse on his way to a castle to rescue a prince or princess trapped there._

_Yuuri approached Victor and hesitated. His eye fell uncertainly on Victor’s mother, as if asking for her permission._

_“Good evening, Yuuri Toshiyevich,” she said. “I am glad to see you here. I trust you are well?”_

_“Very well, Darya Ivanovna. I hope I find you in good health as well. My parents send their respects. They promise to come speak with you soon. At the moment, they are in a conversation with Count Giacometti.”_

_Victor listened, catching each word the stranger said as if it was a precious jewel. He had no desire to interrupt and was quite content to listen to him speak the whole evening long._

_“Perhaps, you will do me the honour of introducing me to your son?” Yuuri said._

_Victor’s mother laughed. “Yes, of course! This is my son – Victor Alekseyevich. Victor, this young man is Yuuri Toshiyevich. His father has visited us several times in the past.”_

_“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Victor said, bowing to Yuuri and receiving a bow in return._

_“May I invite you to a dance?” Yuuri asked, holding out his hand._

_How could Victor turn down a request like that? He accepted and placed one hand very carefully on Yuuri’s shoulder. He felt Yuuri’s hand come to rest on his waist and allowed himself to look at Yuuri in a way that said, “I have been waiting for you.”_

_A new waltz began to play and Yuuri pulled Victor into the crowd of dancers._

_Victor would turn 17 in a few weeks, while Yuuri had recently turned 16. They were both excellent dancers with all the energy one has when one is 16 and at their first ball. They danced every dance together, only taking breaks when the musicians did. They did not think about dancing with anyone else and had no attention to spare for the gossip at the ball._

_What did it matter if Count A— said those words about that Colonel? Or that there was a very heated debate about Napoleon that resulted in two duels? To them a ball was an event meant only for dancing._

_Such a determination to dance solely with each other did not go unnoticed by others, but most guests dismissed this as the innocence of youth and saw no big breach of etiquette there._

_Victor heard all these details later, but that evening all his thoughts were of the young man before him. He told Yuuri how his health had kept him from going out into society for a whole year while Yuuri complimented Victor on his dancing. Victor responded with compliments for Yuuri’s dancing and they spent a long time competing in who would give the best compliment._

_When the evening ended and the guests began to go their separate ways, Yuuri led Victor back to his parents._

_“Will you come to Count Giacometti’s ball?” he asked._

_“Yes, of course!” Victor promised. “Count Giacometti’s family is very close friends with mine!”_

_“I will look forward to seeing you there,” Yuuri replied._

_Victor felt the colour rise to his cheeks. “So will I,” he promised and gave Yuuri’s hand a gentle shake._

_Yuuri lowered his head to Victor’s hand and planted a kiss on his knuckles. The kiss lasted for the briefest of moments and Yuuri walked away._

_Victor followed him with a look full of longing._

_That night he could not sleep for a single moment. He thought again and again of all the words Yuuri had said to him, the looks he gave Victor and the actions with which he accompanied them and decided that they were both destined for one another. Anyone could see it._

Even now, sitting in a carriage that was taking him to Yuuri, the memory of their first ball together filled him with that same excitement.

His thoughts then turned to the ball that had followed. This time others had approached him with invitations, but he declined to dance with any of them, hardly taking a moment to consider. He had promised all the dances to someone else, he told them all.

_Yuuri had arrived so late that Victor was beginning to think that perhaps Yuuri would never come. He had worried that there was a grave reason for his absence, but Yuuri’s appearance put all those fears to rest._

_To Victor’s eye, Yuuri appeared handsomer this time. As before, he was elegantly dressed and attracted the attention of every person in the room._

_He made directly for Victor and gave him a low bow. “Please forgive my late arrival. I do hope that you did not take it to mean that I wish to go back on my promise to you.”_

_“Not at all,” Victor reassured him._

_Just as Victor had hoped, they spent the rest of the night dancing together._

That night, sleep was impossible for Yuuri. He sat by the window, looking out over the fields and forests and thought about Victor.

He remembered how much the man’s beauty had struck on their first encounter. Had his parents not sent him to speak with Victor’s parents he would have, without a doubt, spent the whole evening observing Victor from afar.

_He spent the whole ball dancing with Victor and when he left to go home, he spent the night that followed dancing with Victor._

_His dreams were full of vivid detail – the glow in Victor’s eyes as Yuuri led him, the way the candlelight glinted in his hair and how his lips curled up when he spoke._

_Here it was – love, that wonderful feeling everyone talked about. He wanted to dance with Victor every day of their lives. He wanted to find ways to make him happy._

_Seeing how much Victor enjoyed dancing, Yuuri arranged to be his partner at every ball that followed._

_December, January and February passed before Yuuri found the courage to confess his feelings to Victor._

_After a ball where a Count spent the better part of an hour – that, to Yuuri, felt like an eternity of agony – trying to convince Victor to dance with him, Yuuri understood that he needed to make his feelings known._

_Yuuri spent a long time unable to decide how best to confess his feelings for Victor. Ought he write a letter, or ask to speak to Victor in private?_

_At the next ball they hardly got two minutes alone together and every single attempt Yuuri made to request to speak with Victor alone was interrupted by something – either the start of a new dance, or the appearance of someone who wished to speak with one of them. Yuuri began to lose hope. He could not explain his feelings while they danced. That would be unfair to Victor, who may wish to hear the words away from prying eyes and curious ears._

_And so he decided to write about his feelings._

When Yuuri wrote the letter with his confession he had no way of knowing that his words would be read hundreds of times, kissed just as many and kept like a sacred relic near Victor’s heart.

Even now when Victor was on his way to meet his love, he carried the love confession with him. He produced it now and held it to his lips. He knew its contents by heart. When he closed his eyes the words rose before his inner vision written in Yuuri’s neat handwriting.

_My dearest Victor,_

_I hope you will forgive me addressing you in this way, but perhaps you will understand why I do so when I tell you that I love you most ardently._

_Whatever your feelings for me, to make me wait for a reply would be most cruel. Merely tell me no and I will never breathe a word of my feelings to anyone._

_Yours most sincerely,_

_Yuuri Katsuki._

_Victor, flattered and won over completely by such sentiment, wrote eight pages, declaring his love for Yuuri and recounting every feeling he’d experience upon every single one of their meetings._

_Thus began their correspondence. It was difficult to guess how long it would have lasted were it not for a most alarming letter from Yuuri._

_It arrived one morning just as Victor was sitting down to breakfast. Tikhon brought it to him and Victor cursed the rules of etiquette that required that he remain in his seat until breakfast ended._

_When, at last, he was free to retire to his room to peruse the letter in peace, its contents nearly made him faint._

_My dearest Victor,_

_I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news and I apologize for all the distress this letter will cause you, but I had to tell you as soon as I learned of the matter myself._

_I discovered by accident that my parents have made arrangements for a marriage for me. They have found me a match (I do not know who this person might be, nor did I dare to inquire) and it is their intension that I should marry before the next spring. I overheard them making their plans and they do not know that I am aware of them._

_Oh, Victor! I cannot describe the full extent of my despair upon learning this news! You know that I am yours and yours alone. What must we do? Should I reveal our love to my parents and plea with them to change their plans?_

_I will await your answer before I do anything. My head is spinning from this revelation. I want to come see you. I wish to see you smile at me in that way of yours that always sets my heart at ease._

_Yours forever and always,_

_Yuuri Katsuki_

_Victor paced the room. What was he to do? What could anyone do in a situation such as this?_

_He could beg his own parents for help. Tell them everything and confess that he was to be Yuuri’s and no one else’s. They would understand, would they not?_

_Alas, the bad news of the day had not run their course. As soon as Victor made his decision to plea for help from his parents, as soon as he made his quick and silent way from his room down the stairs and to the sitting room where he knew he would find them at this hour, he surprised a secret of his own._

_Victor hesitated at the door to the sitting room and the voice of his father reached his ears._

_“…that is why I stand by my choice, my love. Victor needs someone loyal and steadfast. He is too prone to flights of fancy. I say the sooner he is married and settled down, the better. I think married life will suit him wonderfully.”_

_“But he is still so young!” his mother protested. “He hardly knows his own mind! How can he start a family now?”_

_“My love, I dare say that if we wait for him to be ready, we will have to wait for a long time indeed. And I already had a word with the young man’s parents. We are in agreement with one another on this.” His father laughed and the sound made Victor’s heart tremble with fear. “He will take some time to learn everything, certainly, but he will thank us for it in the end, mark my words.”_

_Victor backed away, cursing the unfortunate circumstances that had thus deceived his parents._

_An arranged marriage for him as well? It was a plot to keep him and Yuuri apart, he was certain of it!_

_He hurried back to his room and wrote a tearful letter to Yuuri, declaring his love and revealing his parents’ intentions. “We must escape together,” he wrote and felt his heartbeat quicken._

_It must be admitted that the thought of an elopement had always held an appeal for Victor. To escape silently into the night with the man he loved had been Victor’s dream for a long time. What did he care for what society would think or say about him after the deed was done?_

_Yuuri wrote back with the details of their escape and promised to make all the necessary arrangements. He finished by thanking Victor for trusting Yuuri with his good name._

Victor was lost to love. When the carriage slowed and came to a stop at last and he saw Yuuri open the door for him and hold out his hand, he was the happiest being alive.

He accepted Yuuri’s hand and stepped out of the carriage and into the snow.

They were at a church that stood at the crossing of two roads. A small village rose behind it – a few houses, half-buried in the snow. The sun was rising in the sky, casting its warm light over everything.

“You have not changed your mind, have you?” Yuuri asked in a low voice. “Perhaps it is not too late to go back, if you have.”

“How could I even think about doing that?” Victor met Yuuri’s eye, terrified that the young man was about to admit that he himself had changed his mind.

“Neither could I,” Yuuri assured him. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Victor felt the colour rise to his cheeks. He gave a quick nod. “I would follow you until the ends of the world,” he declared.

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to blush. “Thank you.” He led Victor to the church.

They knocked once on the doors and a priest opened it.

“For your troubles,” Yuuri said, handing the man a coin.

The priest accepted it and beckoned them inside.

Yuuri and Victor entered arm-in-arm, followed by their servants.

Victor’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. He was not frightened, he told himself. He threw an uneasy glance at the door. What if his parents decided to barge in, demanding the wedding is called off? His imagination painted the scene in vivid detail: his mother coaxing him to walk away with her as his father challenged Yuuri to a duel. He shrank to Yuuri’s side.

“What is the matter?” Yuuri asked in a low voice.

“I am so very afraid. I worry they will interfere and not let me marry you, my love. Do not let them take me, if they come!” Victor begged in a whisper.

Yuuri paled. The lights from dozens of candles flickered across his brave and handsome face. “I will fight all of them for you,” he promised as if it was the easiest matter in the world.

“Thank you.”

Yuuri gave a slight nod and led Victor to the altar.

“Where are your witnesses?” the priest demanded.

The men indicated their two servants.

The priest questioned each of them in a low voice. At last, feeling satisfied with what they told him, he took his place before the two elopers. “We are gathered before God…”

Victor held Yuuri’s hand and gazed into Yuuri’s face. His free hand took the candle handed to him, but he did not feel its weight.

As the priest spoke, Victor studied the face of the man he was trusting with his honour. His heart leapt in his chest as they exchanged their rings. Yuuri had ordered the rings made from gold. Victor suspected that they had cost him a fortune, but when he saw how they gleamed in the candlelight he knew that the rings were worth everything Yuuri had paid for them.

They exchanged their vows, eyes fixed on each other, committing every detail of this most important moment in their lives to memory.

The priest droned on, taking his time to pronounce them married at last.

Yuuri released Victor’s hand and his arm circled around Victor’s waist. Victor leaned forward and closed his eyes.

They exchanged their first kiss, holding on for a very long time.

Victor’s heart was ready to burst with joy. _Come what may,_ he thought, _we can face any troubles that Fate dares to throw our way._

He let Yuuri lead him to his carriage and they left together with their servants.

Victor’s driver took his coach home. Victor’s face did not appear in the window of the carriage to look at this last memory of home he was leaving behind.

That morning Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv and Darya Ivanovna sat alone at breakfast. They did not send for Victor. They knew all too well of the fragile state of his health and had decided against troubling him.

“Let him rest,” Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv told his wife. “If he does not come to see us before noon, we will come see him and he will tell us what ails him.”

The clocks in the house struck noon and still Victor did not appear. His parents exchanged a worried glance.

“We must send for the doctor,” Darya Ivanovna declared, rising from her chair.

The same alarm appeared on both their faces as Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv left his armchair to accompany his wife. Both of them had thought that their son’s health was on the mend. They did not know what to make of this. Was poor Victor to endure another year of suffering?

A servant entered the room just as they were about to leave and announced the arrival of Toshiya Katsuki.

“Show him into the drawing room, of course,” Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv ordered. “Please present him with my apologies. Darya and I must go see Victor at once!”

The servant bowed and left the room without another word.

“Come with me, my love,” Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv beckoned his wife and held out his arm for her to take.

She accepted it and together they left the room and ascended the staircase.

To their mutual surprise, they found Victor’s room empty of its occupant. The bed was made up and everything in the room was neatly arranged. A letter lay on the table. “To Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv and Darya Ivanovna Nikiforov” it said on the letter in Victor’s handwriting.

Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv opened the letter and read its contents.

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_I hope you will find it in your hearts to forgive me, but I could bear it no longer. I dearly love and am loved by Yuuri Toshiyevich and I refuse to belong to anyone else but him._

_By the time you read this letter, I will, no doubt, be on my way to St. Petersburg with my dear Yuuri by my side. Yuuri found us an apartment where I have no doubt that we will live in comfort. Worry not about me – I have no doubt that I will be the happiest being in the world with Yuuri by my side._

_Your son,_

_Victor Nikiforov-Katsuki_

Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv and Darya Ivanovna exchanged a long look. They said not a word – they did not need to say anything to know what the other person was thinking of what their son had done.

At last, Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv broke the heavy silence. “I must go speak with Toshiya. I suspect that he came here to tell us that his son left with our Victor.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “Oh Victor, what have you done?”

“I will come with you,” Darya Ivanovna told him.

They descended the stairs together. As Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv had predicted, the first words from Toshiy’s mouth were of their sons’ elopement.

“We have just learned of what they had done,” Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv replied and explained about the letter.

“What do you suggest we do?” Toshiya asked. He did not appear to Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv or Darya Ivanovna to be overly concerned about the fate of his son.

Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv smiled at his wife. “We will leave them to their own devices for two weeks, after which one of us will seek them out and explain the truth of their situation to them. I dare say they will feel very foolish once they find out what we had planned for them.”

Toshiya laughed. “They have saved us the trouble of organizing a wedding for them.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Aleksei Vyacheslavochiv said to his guest. “Stay for tea, my old friend.”

“With great pleasure.”


End file.
